


Double Header

by DRiver2U



Series: Sliding into Home [2]
Category: Veronica Mars (TV)
Genre: Baseball, Beaches, F/F, F/M, Gen, Minor League Baseball, Pilots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-04
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-12-11 04:54:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11707227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DRiver2U/pseuds/DRiver2U
Summary: This is the sequel to "Sliding into Home." If you have not read that story, many of the references in this writing may not make sense without reading that story first.Veronica and Logan head to Carmel for a weekend holiday while Mateo and Katie try to find their own version of love in between baseball games.





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**Author's Note:**

> This is a continuation of "Sliding into Home" starring Veronica, Logan, Mateo, and Katie with a virtual appearance from Mac. Keith and Dick are referenced in conversations. 
> 
> No action takes place at a baseball park in this story, but the characters remain the same. Mateo and Katie show up together about 2/3's of the way through the story. There are several references to baseball, but the settings are mainly a beach house and a bar and hotel. 
> 
> Again, I have taken liberties with the plot and setting, although there really are minor league baseball teams in both of the towns mentioned in the story. This sequel is just as long as the first story, but, once again, I've decided not to break it into chapters. 
> 
> There are discussions about rape. There is fluff, angst, baseball, and sex. If you like action, suspense, and adrenaline, this may not be the story for you. Instead, there's a lot of dialogue as two couples get to know each other in two separate settings. 
> 
> All mistakes are mine and characters belong to RT. Not canon.

_Veronica, did you see I called?_

_Yeah, Logan, I did._

_Did you see I called several times?_

_Yes._

_Did you listen to my messages?_

_No._

_Why aren't you calling me back?_

_Can't._

_What do you want me to do?_

_Doesn't matter._

_Doesn't matter? What does that mean?_

_Can't talk until after 10. Not even supposed to have phone on. You decide. Anything is fine. Tell me when and where and I'll be there._

_And you said you aren't easy._

_I think that theory went out the window when I pulled my dress over my head._

_Thanks for that image._

_Happy to make your evening brighter._

_I'm working tonight._

_I remember._

_You have late class again tomorrow?_

_Yes._

_Are we going to talk before?_

_Don't know._

_I'll try again in the morning._

_Stop texting me. You're going to get me kicked out of this class._

_See you soon, Easy._

_Easy? I thought I was your ocean. X_

**********

Veronica's week has been exhausting. She is up an hour earlier than normal each morning for her run. She could stop running for the week to free up some time, but she finds it helps relax her for the entirety of the day. She no longer signs up for 5Ks or dreams of running the Boston Marathon, but the morning run is part of her routine, part of her structure, part of her DNA. Watching the city come to life early in the morning alone with her music is what she treasures as she runs the streets that have become imprinted on her brain's neural network. She loves the feel of her feet pounding the sidewalk, the consistency, and the physicality of the task. 

The rest of her mornings are taken up with studying for the bar scheduled for next month. From noon to 10:00 PM, she attends prep class with several of her law school classmates. Their two-hour break for dinner is less about eating and more about trying to have at least five minutes of non-legalese conversation while quizzing each other about what they've learned so far. They talk about recruiters, interviews, and business attire. No one talks about something as unimportant as baseball, especially minor league baseball. 

With each minute Veronica spends in the class, she is more certain about one thing. She doesn't want to be a lawyer, or, more specifically, a corporate lawyer. She's spent the last quarter of her life preparing for one test that will decide her career path, her salary range, and her future. She doesn't know who to tell about the epiphany and, frankly, she doesn't know what to do about it. She'll take the test. Knowing herself as she does, she believes she'll pass the exam. And then what? The thought of commuting into San Francisco an hour each way, working 14 hours a day in a generic skyscraper, and wearing a business suit are not just unappealing but revolting. 

Her calls from Mateo each night are what bring her happiness. She has a Pavlovian reaction when she feels the phone vibrate and his name appears on her screen. There are days when she feels like Mateo is the one man in her life she can depend on and who still depends on her. She realizes the days are numbered, and he, too, will move on from the times when he needs her so desperately. Until then, she wants to guide him, influence his decisions, and continue to be the person he turns to celebrate, grieve, and question. 

**********

_Ma, I know you've got class late this week, but text me when you're finished._

_10:06. I'm free. And not driving. Why no call tonight, Matty-o?_

_Signals have been whack out here. Don't think a call would go well._

_How was the game?_

_We lost._

_And?_

_We looked like shit. Four fucking errors in first 5 innings. Looked like little leaguers._

_How'd you do?_

_No errors. Got 2 stealing. 2 hits, infield fly out, and hit by a pitch. Forearm. Barely. Didn't hurt. Oh, and I took a bat to the head while catching. Hurt like a motherfucker. I don't know which is worse - getting hit in the head with a bat or taking a fastball to my junk._

_You're supposed to have protective equipment for both. You OK?_

_Yeah, just dazed for awhile. Couldn't comprehend the count, though, and messed up the next call to the pitcher._

_You should've walked to the mound. Got your head together._

_I know that now. Wasn't thinking straight then. You think I don't know I should have done that? Not my first game, you know._

_I know, Mat. Chill._

_Yeah, sorry. I'm being an asshole. I'm still pissed I called the wrong pitch. Son of a bitch hit a double because I called the wrong pitch. Hey, that rhymed._

_Oh, you're the poet of your generation._

_You always said I had lots of talents._

_When mistakes were happening, did you step up? You're supposed to be leading._

_I've got to learn how to be more positive instead of telling them they look like fucking idiots._

_That would be a good thing to learn._

_If I can get a decent signal, I'll try to Google positive motivation techniques before tomorrow's first pitch._

_Sarcasm. Nice. How's the cheap hotel?_

_Cheap and gross. And the second baseman talks in his sleep. In Spanish. And not about baseball. Very loudly. Wish I didn't speak Spanish so I could pretend I don't know what he's moaning about._

_Buy earplugs. Getting enough to eat?_

_No._

_What can I do?_

_Order me some take out!_

_I think you can handle that yourself._

_Hey._

_Yeah. What else, kid?_

_Katie texted._

_You said you've been doing that a lot._

_Right._

_And?_

_She says she wants to come to the game on Saturday in Lancaster._

_That's a long drive for her. She must really want to see you._

_I know._

_And?_

_What do you think?_

_Why not?_

_What if it doesn't go well? Maybe first time was a fluke._

_Maybe it wasn't._

_Don't you think it's a lot of pressure?_

_What kind of pressure? What's got you worried?_

_What if we don't click again? What if we do?_

_Only one way to find out._

_Right._

_Look. You like her. If it doesn't work out, you can still text her and like her and respect her. But just as her friend._

_But I can already tell. It's different this time. She feels so right in so many ways._

_It's too soon to know that._

_I know. That's why I'm scared._

**********

The worst class of Veronica's life lets out at 4:00 on Friday afternoon to give her and the other students a reprieve for the weekend. She heads home, organizes what she needs for two nights away, and looks forward to listening to NPR for a couple of hours rather than the monotone instructor who has formed a brain worm in her persistent thoughts of class. As soon as she crosses the mountains, the familiar heat of Palo Alto evaporates and she feels like she has entered a different country or, at least, a different state. Gone is the sunshine and warmth replaced by clouds, breeze, and cool air. It's a shock to her system, but she knows, in some ways, it's a shock, any shock, that she needs. 

The GPS on her phone has been spot on for every turn, and the drive doesn't take as long as she had imagined it would on a Friday night. Veronica pulls into the pebbled driveway in front of the wooden cottage and notes the BMW already sitting next to the house. If secluded is what Logan wants, he has picked the perfect place. She hasn't seen another car for at least two miles and there isn't another house in site of the rugged beach landscape. Veronica isn't convinced she's even in Carmel, but it doesn't matter. She's charmed with the house and the area as soon as she parks her SUV. 

The natural clapboard siding house is weathered by the ocean air and has that permanent rugged look so disliked by modern builders. The front stairs lead to a small porch and the "yard" consists of rocks and plants with little actual grass. There are shells littered around the garden border and scattered on the small table tucked between the two chairs set on each side of the bay window. The front door looks out of place with the rest of the house. The shiny red contrasts not only with the weathered siding but with the gray sky and the dark ocean. The antique door knocker features two sweethearts longing for a kiss. Veronica feels sorry for the inanimate lovers who are interrupted by the incessant interference of people trying to make their way in and out of the house. 

Veronica hesitates not knowing if she should knock or just enter the cottage. She decides to do both. She knocks, not using the knocker, and then turns the door knob. The door opens and she sees through the open room and straight to the ocean. From the front of the house, no one would guess that the rear is covered by windows. Rows and rows of windows. How difficult it must be to keep them clean, is Veronica's first thought. Her next idea is how hard it would be to leave, even to buy groceries, if she lived here on a permanent basis. 

She drops her bag on the floor, hangs her purse on the multi-colored surfboard coat pegs, pushes the door closed behind her, and lines her shoes up on the mat just inside the door. The smell of tomatoes and garlic waft through the house. She spots a head leaning against the top of a chair on the deck and makes her way through to the glass doors. "Nice view," she says as she closes the door and takes a seat in the empty Adirondack chair next to Logan. "And I'm not talking about the ocean," she jokes with a smile. 

"I didn't hear you pull in," Logan says, blinks a few times, and looks a little guilty. "Maybe I fell asleep for a few minutes." 

"Seems like you'd need a blanket. I forget how cold it is on this side." Veronica pulls her jacket around her tighter. "June gloom is in bloom." 

"But we're not doomed." Logan reaches over and holds his hand out towards Veronica, and she slides her hand into his. "It's so good not to be looking at a text from you," he sighs as he studies her blue eyes. 

"Sorry about the crazy week. That bar prep class is killer. It's worse than most of my law school classes." She pauses and removes her hand from Logan's and sticks both hands into her coat pockets. "Finished with your nights for awhile?"

"Yeah. Maybe we'll actually be on a somewhat similar schedule next week." 

"That'd be nice." Veronica pulls her shoulders up, flips her collar, and then asks, "Aren't you cold?"

"I'm trying to get the smell of fuel out of my pores." 

"Well, try not to catch pneumonia in the process. And, yes, I know that's not really how a person gets pneumonia." 

"What do you think of the place?"

"Perfect. I already know it'll be hard to leave. How'd you find it?"

"I know a guy."

"Of course you do." Veronica shakes her head. "Maybe I should have had some input into where we stayed. How much is this place going to set me back?" 

"Nothing."

"No, really, you know I want to pay half." 

"What about using the money my ex didn't get?"

"That's what you're using. Me? I'm using the money from my lemonade stand." 

"I'm sure you made a fortune if you were selling your famous cookies." Logan laughs at the thought of Veronica on a street corner sitting behind a handmade sign. "Really, though. Nothing. Someone owed me a favor, and this weekend escape is payment." 

"Cryptic, Echolls. Do I want to know the details of this favor?"

"Nothing sinister, I promise." 

"It smells really good in there." 

"Oh yeah. I should probably check on that," Logan says as he pushes himself out of his chair. "Coming in?" 

"Either that or you're going to have to throw me a couple of blankets." Veronica takes the hand Logan offers and digs herself out of the low-sitting chair. She wonders if anyone's ever been able to get out of an Adirondack chair gracefully. When she stands up, she's right in front of Logan's chest and he wraps her into a hug. 

"Forget the blankets. We've got each other." 

"You're such a sweet talker." 

"Sweet. Yeah. That's just what most people think when my name is mentioned." Logan laughs and opens the door for Veronica to enter. They make their way to the section of the open room that nestles the small kitchen. 

"What're you making? It smells so good. This is going to sound crazy, but it smells like the past. Our past." 

"Lasagna. Mama Leone's lasagna."

"How is that possible?" 

"They packed it in dry ice and overnighted it to me."

"They did - you did - what?"

"They shipped it precooked, so all we have to do is heat it." 

"You don't have to try this hard, Logan. Stouffer's would have been fine. I'm not here for the food. I'm here to see you." 

"I don't _have_ to try this hard, but I _want_ to."

"Well, shit, now I feel terrible because I haven't tried hard at all. I've just gone to class all week and then showed up here waiting to be fed." Veronica frowns briefly and then gives a big smile. "I did bring cookies, though," she says as she walks back to where she left her bag. "I couldn't show up empty-handed, could I?" 

"Yes, you could have and it would've been fine. You ready to eat?" 

"Yes. The answer to that question would be yes. A definite yes. Do you know how long it's been since I've had Mama Leone's lasagna?" 

"How long?"

"Too fucking long." 

**********

"Since you cooked, I'll clean up." 

"Is sticking something in the oven really considering cooking?"

"In this case, it is. Because you didn't just cook it, you ordered it. And it was amazing. As good as I remember."

"So what am I supposed to do while you're cleaning up?"

"Anything you want." 

"How about a fire? I think I can handle that chore, too. I believe there's a switch on the side of the fireplace. What's your preference? Raging, roaring, or smoldering?" 

"You should work in PR because I'm guessing the options are really low, medium, and high, aren't they?"

"They need better marketing."

"Do you think we could've survived as pioneers?" Veronica asks playfully.

"Doubtful." 

"I suppose everything was take out in those days. Take it out of the ground or out of the pen and cook it over the fire." Veronica hears her phone ring, wipes her hands on the towel, and walks to the front door to pull the phone from her purse. She looks at the ID and rejects the call. She slips the phone into the back pocket of her jeans and walks back to the kitchen sink to finish washing the dishes.

"You can take that if you want."

"No, I was thinking it might be Mateo. I thought he might call after the game. Anyone else probably isn't important. Everyone else can wait until Sunday night for me to get back to them." 

"Where's Mateo this week?"

"He's in Lancaster this weekend. They were in Lake Elsinore earlier in the week." 

"That's a lot of ground to cover. And those towns are the gems of the state." 

"Only the best for those guys." 

"How's he doing?" 

Veronica tries to gauge if Logan is actually interested or if he's digging to see if she knows Katie will be visiting Mateo the next day. "He's still playing well. The team lost a couple this week. He got conked in the head with a bat. I'm assuming he didn't get a concussion, not that he would admit that to me. Or to the coach. Or to the trainer." 

"Glad to hear he's doing OK," Logan mumbles. Veronica is convinced Logan doesn't know about the visit and really doesn't care how Mateo is doing or how his season is going. 

Veronica's phone rings again. "I'll just take this outside," she says as she walks to the front door and pulls on her jacket. She sits on the first step and wraps her free arm around her coat before she begins the conversation she's been looking forward to all day.

**********

"All well in baseball-land?"

"Yep. All's good. He's not going to call tomorrow night." 

"You mean we have the whole night to ourselves tomorrow night? Whatever shall we do?" 

"Question is, what are we going to do yet tonight?"

"Couch?"

"And since it's dark and I can't see the ocean, how about TV?" 

"Now who's the sweet talker?" Logan tosses Veronica the remote before saying, "I'm going to the bathroom first. Which, by the way, is this way. As is the bedroom. Should have given you the tour when you arrived." 

"If you leave, you have no say in which seat is left for you." 

"I guess I'll have to risk it." 

Veronica grabs a pillow from one end of the couch and settles into the other end propping her head up on the double thick cushions. She stretches her legs into the middle and grabs the blanket that drapes over the back of the sofa. She throws the clicker onto the driftwood coffee table. 

Logan walks back into the room and laughs. "How can someone so small take up so much space on a couch?" 

"You snooze, you lose. That's straight from the Dibstones Handbook. If you would've called dibs on the couch, I would have had to vacate to the chair. Have you learned nothing in life?" 

"Trust me. I have learned so little in life," Logan confesses. "What do you want? Old movie or late night show?" 

"You pick. Or do you have "a guy" who usually picks what you watch?"

"TCM it is."

"Fingers crossed I get Humphrey Bogart." 

"Fingers crossed I get Grace Kelly." 

"I'm beginning to think you might have a type." 

"Right back at you." When Logan turns on TCM, _Marnie_ is half over. "Well, we've missed the set-up for the mystery. Want to go with Colbert instead?" 

"Sure," Veronica says and wonders how much of the opening monologue she'll witness. She's afraid she knows this feeling all too well. It's a feeling she gets most nights at this time. It's the only time of the day her brain gives out as quickly as her body. 

**********

"Veronica." Logan turns off the television and pulls himself off the couch. "Veronica, I'm going to bed." 

Veronica's hands are folded under her head as if in prayer and her knees are curled up. She's breathing deeply under the blanket that stops just below her shoulders. 

"Veronica." Logan turns off the lights in the living room and kitchen and locks the front door. He squats next to the couch and smooths Veronica's blonde hair. "Bobcat, I'm going to bed," he whispers in her ear but receives no reaction.

Logan heads down the hall and shakes his head. This is not how he envisioned spending the first night of their weekend, but they've both had a long week. He brushes his teeth, strips down to his boxers, and looks into the dark living room one more time. "Yo, Mars, I'm going to bed." 

**********

Veronica wakes to the darkness and pulls her phone out of her back pocket. 1:42. It's darker than Veronica remembers it ever being that early in the morning. She pushes back the blanket, stands up, and then throws the blanket around her shoulders. She wanders out to the deck and closes her eyes as she sits on top of the railing. She smells the salt and the wet sand and the damp wood on the house. She hears so little except the strong ocean pulling and pushing itself as if unsure if it wants to stay where it has been for thousands of years or if it wants to force itself into the next step in evolution. 

After sitting outside for longer than she intends, she finds her way back to the living room and opens her duffle bag still sitting by the front door. She pulls out her pajama set of shorts and a short-sleeved shirt and wonders if she would have been better off packing flannel pajamas. She repacks what she wore throughout the day, plugs in her phone to charge, and grabs her toothbrush. Before she heads to the bathroom, she twists her hair into a loose braid. 

The bedroom door is open and she sees Logan sprawled under the covers of the king size bed. After brushing her teeth and a quick face wash, she snuggles into the other side of the bed, lying on her stomach. Logan rolls over and drapes his arm over her back. "Fucking hell, you're freezing," he says louder and more awake than Veronica anticipated. 

"I've been outside."

"Doing what?"

"Listening and smelling."

"What's the deal with you and scents?"

"You should try it some time. Close your eyes and just listen and smell. It's like a different world than when you have your eyes open. Just don't do it when you're flying. Or driving." They are quiet for a minute. "Why didn't you wake me up?"

"I tried. Three times. I think I could've jumped on the couch and you still wouldn't have woken up." 

"Well, I was hoping to avoid discussing this topic so soon into our reconnecting, but I guess I'm being forced to admit it. It's true. I have what in medical terms is called acute monoboringitis. Better known as boring as hell. Unless I'm at a baseball game, most Friday nights, I'm asleep by 10:30. Boring. That's what crawled into bed next to you." 

"I'm just glad you crawled off the couch and into bed with me." 

"Will you rub my back for awhile? Don't massage it. Just run your hand up and down my back." 

"I'll put my hands anywhere you tell me," Logan croons as his hand slides over her star-patterned pajama top. "Nice sleepwear, sexy." 

"What's the point of spending money on expensive, uncomfortable lingerie? You'd rather have me naked anyway."

"That I would." 

"Mmm. That's so nice. You still have a magic touch." 

"You were so beautiful sleeping on the couch with your cute little snores."

"Cute and snores are not two of the words a woman wants to hear when she climbs into bed next to you."

"And what words do you want?"

Veronica awkwardly lifts her arm off the bed and starts counting off each finger as she talks. "Oh. God. Yes. Please. More." 

Logan reaches for her hand and pushes down each of the fingers she just raised as he speaks. "Anything. And. Everything. For. You." 

Logan sweeps his hand over to her hair and plays with it until her braid comes apart. Veronica rolls to her side and presses her hand to Logan's bare chest. "Are you finally going to kiss me? I've waited all night for that." 

"Your anticipation was so great, you fell asleep. You know how to kill a guy's ego." 

"One thing I've never worried about with you is your ego." 

"You know, you could've kissed me."

"Don't you think that's a bit forward for a nice girl like me?"

"You're so right. Where did I ever get the impression you're an assertive, independent, free-thinking woman who would be comfortable making the first move?"

"You must have me mistaken with someone else. I'm just a nice, quiet, proper lady." 

"Then you need to get out of this bed immediately. I've got no use for quiet, proper anything."

"Logan."

"Veronica."

"Is this someone's house?"

"Yeah, of course."

"Are we allowed to have sex in someone else's bed in someone else's house?"

"Don't people do that all the time?"

"They do it in hotels, but do they do it in someone else's house? What's the etiquette?"

"I'll buy them a new bed if you're that worried about it. Because we're definitely having sex in this bed." 

"Definitely?"

"Definitely."

"Then maybe I should take off these lovely pajamas."

"Best. Fucking. Idea. Ever. Bobcat," Logan says counting off the words with his fingers. 

"And then maybe I better start kissing you before I fall asleep again."

"Maybe you better start kissing me because it's what you've been thinking about all night."

"Not just all night. Dreaming about all week."

"Veronica, there's nothing I want more than to make your dreams a reality." 

**********

"Where're you going?"

"Running." 

"What time is it? Didn't we just go to sleep?"

"I like to run before most people are up."

"Come back to bed, Veronica." 

"That'll upset my routine."

"That's what vacations are supposed to do." 

"Come on. Run with me."

"I will, but come back to bed for an hour." 

"I'm not tired."

"I know. That's why you need to come back to bed." 

"Are you tired?"

"Yes. Thanks for making sure I got very little sleep last night."

"My pleasure."

"No, I'm pretty sure it was both of our pleasures. Now get your perfect little ass back in bed." 

"One hour. That's all you get."

"Easy." 

**********

"I don't know why you wouldn't shower with me," Logan says as he pulls his hooded sweatshirt over his head and rounds the corner. 

"Because I'm so disgusting after a run, I don't want you anywhere near me."

"That's the whole point of the showering." Logan walks to the kitchen island and sits on one of the stools while Veronica is plating scrambled eggs. He glances between his phone and Veronica a few times and eventually puts the phone flat on the counter. 

"What's up, Echolls? I can tell you've got something on your mind," Veronica says as she hands him a plate of eggs and toast. "Got an exciting surprise planned for us that you're dying to tell me about?"

"You want to play Spyglass today?"

Veronica gives Logan an incredulous look. "Are you fucking with me? You must know I have zero interest in golf." 

"Yeah, but it's Spyglass. And I know some guys who've booked a tee time. They need another for a foursome." 

"Who's the fourth? You or me?"

"Uh, me."

"Then I don't think you're actually asking me to play because you round out the group. I'd just be the groupie. Feel free." 

"I don't want to leave you for 4 hours, but come on, Veronica. It's one of the best courses in the world." 

"Go. Have fun."

"If you come along, I won't feel guilty." 

"Not going. Who, by the way, are all these guys you keep mentioning?" 

"I'm not at liberty to reveal my sources."

"Just as well. I probably don't want to know. And, no, I still don't want to go." 

"Mars, you're killing me," Logan complains. 

"Really. It's OK. Go ahead. I'll go into town. Shop. Sit on the beach. Study." 

"How about if I take you out somewhere really nice tonight to make up for it?"

"I don't want really nice. I didn't bring clothes for really nice." 

"Take my credit card. Buy something for a really nice night."

"Nope. Not taking your money."

"Why are you always so stubborn about money?"

"Because it's _your_ money."

"You know I don't care."

"You cared enough to keep it away from your ex-wife." 

"Don't start with that, with her." 

"Logan, I don't care if you go golfing with _your guys_. But I'm not someone you can buy off with your money. Make the decision to go, but then accept the fact that I'm not someone who can be placated with a nice dinner or with you flashing your black card." 

"I'm not trying to buy you off. Stop saying that."

"I'm perfectly capable of spending a few hours entertaining myself. I thought you said you like it that I'm independent." Veronica puts her fork down and looks Logan in the eyes. "Look, did you bring your clubs with you?"

"There's the old detective coming out."

"What's the answer?"

"Yeah. They're in the trunk." 

"Then that settles it. Go. Play with the guys. And don't say you'd rather play with me because, in this case, you wouldn't." 

"I'd rather you were there with me." 

"When do you need to leave?"

"In a couple of hours."

"OK."

"Don't be mad."

"I'm not." 

"I don't want to fight with you this weekend."

"I don't either."

"Come over here. Sit next to me. You don't have to eat standing across the island."

"I'm good. More juice? You want anything else?"

"For you to sit next to me." 

"Logan, you don't have to treat me like I'm some delicate flower. I'm more than capable of taking care of myself for 4 hours, 4 days, 4 years, 4 decades. I've got it covered." 

"What're you going to do while I'm gone?"

"Most likely, I'll throw a rager. You'll definitely be gone the whole 4 hours, right? I've gotta make sure I have everyone out of here before you get back."

"Funny. You throwing a rager. Can't even picture it." 

"I watched you enough times that I think I could figure it out. Couldn't have been too difficult if you and Dick pulled it off."

"Go ahead. Get in as many digs as you want. I can take it." 

"Not digs. Just truth." 

"Maybe we should start this day over. Go back to bed and get up again because it feels like things have taken a turn for the dark side." 

"Sure. That's the easiest way to appease me, right? Fuck me till I don't remember what idiotic thing you've done this time."

"I'm sensing you're actually mad," Logan says sarcastically with his jaw set. 

"I'm not or, at least, I wasn't. But don't play me like this is something that just came up. I have a lot of faults, but I'm not stupid. You brought your clubs with you because you were planning this golf outing, but you want me to believe this invitation just popped onto your phone and now you don't know what you should do. What you should have done was just told me yesterday you had this organized. Then I could have planned what I wanted to do today. Not telling me is just being inconsiderate." 

"You're right. I'm sorry. I should have said something earlier. I don't have to go." 

"I. Don't. Care. If. You. Go. Golfing." 

"Veronica."

"What?"

"I'm sorry."

"OK."

"What more do you want me to do?"

"Nothing. It's over. I think I'll cook tonight. Is that good with you?"

"Can't I take you out? We still haven't had that real date we talked about."

"Honestly, I'd rather cook. Crab and lobster sound good?"

"Oh, you're hilarious. Nice to know you still remember the best way to kill me."

"I've got plenty of other ways, trust me."

"What time do you want this meal to happen?"

"Whenever. I'll wait until you get back."

"I'll be back as soon as possible." 

"No hurry."

"Veronica."

"It's OK, Logan. I'm fine. Everything's fine," Veronica says calmly as she places her empty plate in the sink and walks to the bedroom to find her sweater. 

**********

"Aren't you freezing?" Logan pulls his hood over his head and turns his back to the wind. 

"It's not so bad. Once my feet went numb, I stopped feeling how cold the water is."

"I can't decide if I even want to go surfing this weekend. I'm not sure my wetsuit will be warm enough to keep my balls from freezing off." 

Veronica bends down as the wave rolls away and places her hand in the wet sand leaving a print as she pulls herself back up when the next wave arrives. "Fleeting," she whispers to the ocean. She bends down again and rolls her pants up another two times and walks farther into the water. 

"I have to go soon."

"OK." 

"You want to go in with me? Warm up?"

"Go ahead. I'm good here." 

Logan looks at the back of Veronica's frame one last time before turning and walking back up the sand beach to the deck of the house. Except for flying, he's rarely sure of anything most days, but he's certain he's messed up what connection they had when they met again yesterday. _It's Spyglass_ , he justifies to himself, and he brushes the sand off his feet before entering the house to change clothes. 

Veronica hasn't done yoga in more than a year, but there's something about the sound of the waves and the cloudy gray sky that makes her want to reach up and try to touch the world beyond her grasp. She rolls her pant legs two more times and walks over to the dark, jagged rocks. She knows she'd be better off trying to scale them if she was wearing shoes, but she doesn't care. All she wants at that moment is to sit on top of the rock. Enough water, time, and people have made the rock formation climbable, although not easily, and soon she is sitting on top and watching the ocean surround her. It doesn't matter to her that the seat of her linen pants will be soaked in a short time. She stares at the vastness that is the ocean around her. 

"Veronica, I'm leaving."

She hears a voice but can't make out the words that are coming from the house, but she waves her hand in the air without turning to look. She pulls her knees to her chest and squeezes what warmth is left in her body into her core.

**********

Mac. Q. Mac Attack. Cindy. It doesn't matter what name Veronica pulls up in her brain any time she contacts her best friend because it's always the same picture in her mind. It's the image of the two of them smiling and laughing at some ridiculous joke Hugh tells them. More often than not these days, Hugh sneaks into their Skype conversations and takes over long enough to tell them a story, joke, or pun before he moves away from Mac and the camera, touching Mac's hair lightly as he leaves Veronica's vision. For most people, distance is a hindrance to maintaining relationships. With Veronica and Mac, the opposite has happened. The more distance they put between themselves physically, the closer they've bonded as friends. 

Veronica wasn't surprised when Mac flew to England the day after she graduated from college. She wasn't even surprised when she received the emailed wedding photo and announcement that arrived three days later. She wasn't surprised to learn that Hugh had been promoted from London cop to detective. She wasn't surprised to learn a baby was on the way. What surprised Veronica was that Mac was the one, the only one, of her pre-Stanford friends to show up when Sai died. She'd held Veronica's hand. She'd let Veronica cry without talking or asking questions. She'd picked up hamburgers, actual meat sandwiches, for Mateo even though anything non-vegan, non-organic, non-GMO went against her principles. 

Veronica has to admit that having a girlfriend, a best girlfriend, is probably more than she thought she would be given again in life. She finds a strength in their bond she didn't know she missed. She often wonders how it was that Mac knew what Veronica needed during that devastating period, how Mac didn't question her decisions, and how she immediately increased communications with Veronica from weekly to daily in the aftermath of the tragedy. Keith hadn't been there for her in the way Mac had, and Veronica still feels it's a debt she'll never be able to repay through pure friendship alone. 

_Mac, if you're in bed, don't bother texting me back._

_I'm not. It's Saturday night. I'm in a club getting drunk and dancing with lots of strange men. Trying to decide who will be the lucky one to go home with me._

_Or you're home crashed on the couch with Vee on your chest and Hugh sleeping in the chair._

_Can't fool you._

_How are you?_

_We're all good. Aren't you supposed to be with Logan this weekend?_

_Am. He's golfing, so I'm doing my own thing for a few hours._

_Is that OK?_

_Yeah, fine._

_Do you want to talk about it?_

_No, really, it's fine. I'm fine._

_Well, if he fucks it up with you again, Hugh has some really great single friends._

_These the same ones you've been trying to set me up with for years? I'm beginning to think they might be a figment of your imagination._

_Do you have a problem with virtual boyfriends?_

_Probably the easiest kind to have._

_How's Mateo?_

_Do you remember I told you Logan hooked him up with a pilot last weekend?_

_Yeah._

_Well, he's crazy gaga for her. Like I've never seen him before. Very strange to witness. It's kind of fun seeing him so messed in the head because he's such an uptight fucking perfectionist most of the time._

_He really is._

_She's spending the night with him tonight. I wonder what he'll tell me about it._

_Whoa, Veronica, did you give him the talk about the birds and the bees?_

_His dad did that. I gave him the "don't rape anyone" talk._

_Thank god someone did._

_Hey, Q._

_Yeah, Bond._

_Could I visit after I take the bar? I feel like it's been so long since I've seen you in person. And I need to kiss Vee's sweet cheeks. I'll get a hotel room and stop by only when you're available. I won't be a bother. Promise._

_Fuck no, you're not staying in a hotel. Your room here is ready. Plus you can watch Vee all day and then I can actually get something done!_

_Spending the day with Vee would be a pleasure._

_Could you take her out of the house so I can actually have sex with my husband for longer than 6 minutes?_

_What do you need? 15, 20 minutes?_

_What I wouldn't give for 15 minutes!_

_Don't aim too high, I'll get the wrong impression of you, think you're some kind of nymphomaniac or something._

_Ha. And we'll drink tea in the garden while Vee fumbles around at our feet. Yes, please come visit. Please, please, please._

_I miss you so much._

_Ditto. Why don't you buy a one-way ticket and then decide to go back home when you get tired of us? Stay as long as you want. Forever is OK. I'll start asking around the office if there are jobs for American lawyers. Hey, maybe you could be a London detective with Hugh. You'd rock at that._

_Tempting but maybe we start with a long weekend. Although, I do like the sound of London Detective Mars. I could wear a trench coat and walk down cobbled streets with a cigarette hanging from my mouth. I can already see the book series in the windows at Waterstones._

_Once I get you over here, I know I'll convince you to stay. Haven't you heard? I'm really fun._

_I have heard that. And good with computers and babies. You're the whole package._

_You know it. Oh, shit. Vee just peed all over me._

_Sounds kinky. I'll let you go. I'll get you some dates that might work so we can see how they fit with your schedule._

_Perfect. Love you. Hope to see you soon._

_Love you. Tell Hugh I say hello. And give Vee a kiss from me._

 

**********

"You look nice," Veronica comments as Logan slides out the door and onto the deck in his golf outfit of black trousers, light blue collared shirt, and gray quarter-zip sweater. His black jacket is unzipped, and she can see his scorecard in the inside pocket. He slips into the vacant chair next to Veronica.

"Thanks. Tell me you haven't been out here since I left," he pleads as he notices her wrapped in the blanket from the couch. Her gray fleece pants are a shade darker than the wood of the chair. She has her legs pulled up under her and her hair pulled into a low ponytail. 

"Nope. How was golf? Get any birdies or bogeys or whatever they're called?" 

"Some of both, actually. I'm a little rusty and super inconsistent. But that course is amazing. Gorgeous."

"Who'd you play with?"

"Some guys who used to be in the navy with me. Retired now." 

"Oh, so like your old boss."

"Something like that. What'd you do?"

"Went to a farmers' market. Bought some things for dinner. Found a neat chocolate store. Went to a book sale. Walked past a baseball field and watched part of a little league game. Went to a park and studied." 

"Sounds nice. And relaxing. Nice and relaxing." 

"Yeah. It was." 

"I'm sorry I'm later than I said I would be."

"It's no problem. I didn't start dinner yet. I figured you'd have drinks after playing. Isn't that how it usually works with golf? 19th hole and all that."

"Usually. What're you making tonight?"

"Fish and veggies."

"Sounds good." Logan pauses, closes his eyes, and notes how he only hears seagulls screeching, wind blowing, waves lapping, and Veronica breathing. "Thanks, Veronica. I mean it. Thanks for letting me do this today. I'm sorry I messed things up with us, but it was really great to see those guys again." 

"It's not messed up. And you don't have to thank me. You can do what you want. Any time you want. You don't need my permission." 

"I know. But this weekend was supposed to be about us. And I interrupted that."

"There are bigger problems in the world. Forget about it." 

"I don't want there to be problems with us."

"Well, that's going to be pretty hard to pull off. We're human. And we're us. Problems are bound to occur. On a regular basis." 

"You didn't use to be this easy on me when I screwed up." 

"I now look at problems on a recalibrated scale of '1 to Did someone die?' and if no one's dead, I walk it back from there."

"I'm not sure if that's healthy or depressing."

"Probably a little of both. Honestly, it's not a big deal. Let's drop it. We're going to beat this into the ground and it's just not that important." 

"Maybe _it's_ not important, but you have to know. I think _you're_ important and _we're_ important. And I'm going to do better." 

"OK."

Logan sits back in his chair and makes a couple of fists. He takes a deep breath before talking again. "It's been awhile since I've taken someone else's interests into account when I'm making decisions. Even when I was married, there was so much tension between us that I tried to avoid bringing up anything that might cause conflict. We spent more time figuring out how not to fight than we did enjoying doing things together." 

"That's an awful way to live." 

"I don't want that with us, Veronica."

"Me either."

"I want to believe we can trust each other to be honest with one other, even if it's about something stupid like golf tee times." 

"Friends have to be able to trust each other. Otherwise they're just acquaintances." 

"I do trust you, Veronica, and I feel horrible that it seems like I didn't care or trust you enough to tell you something trivial. And that I made plans without telling you." 

"Don't worry about it. We've only re-known each other a week. How're you supposed to know if you can trust me or not? Just a few hours ago, I was plotting your death by lobster, so I can see how you'd be confused." 

"So, we're OK?"

"Sure. But this is probably a good time to talk about how we navigate the time we spend with other people. We've only been in contact again a week, and it's too soon to make any big decisions about us or where this friendship is going. So, how do you think we should handle it when we see other people? Do you want to know or is it better to keep it on the down low?"

Logan's stomach lurches at the thought of Veronica in bed with someone else. Without asking her, he's assumed she wants to be monogamous. She may have used the word "friends" on more than one occasion in the last week, but that's not how his brain has processed her vocabulary. Her casual attitude about sex is foreign on her. This is one aspect of new-Veronica he hadn't expected and doesn't know how to react to it. He looks to the ocean and admits, "I hadn't thought about it." 

"You're the one with the motto: No commitment, no guilt, remember?" 

"Not exactly what I had in mind when I said it."

"I think I'd rather you not tell me who else you're seeing. When we're together, I prefer to think I'm not competing with your thoughts. What do you want? I know you don't like infidelity, so I'm good with telling you anything you want." 

"I know what I don't want. I don't want you sleeping with someone else." 

"What am I going to do with all the bookings I already have in my planner?" Veronica laughs.

"Seriously, Veronica. Is this because I made plans behind your back today?"

"No, it's not. Don't you think we should be adults and have this discussion?"

"Can we have the discussion where you tell me you don't want to have sex with other men?" 

"How about other women?"

"Now that I might be fine with."

"Figures." 

"Is it really too soon to make this about just us? We've waited so long to be back together again. We need to make up for all those years we've been apart." 

"I don't know, Logan, it seems like we might be setting ourselves up to fail if we jump back into this full on." 

"Well, I definitely don't want to know who else you're sleeping with and I definitely don't not want to know who else you're sleeping with, so we've got a problem." 

"How about if we tell each other that we're thinking about being with someone else and ask the other person how they feel about it?"

"And how are you going to feel if I tell you I slept with someone else? I seem to recall you don't take that kind of information lightly, even if we aren't actually dating." 

"Yeah, I didn't always handle that too well, but I like to think I've evolved a little since then."

"I don't know, Veronica. I see a lot of problems for us if we don't try to do this 100%. I sure as fuck don't want to hurt you again and I'm sure you don't want to hurt me."

"That's true." 

"How about we think about it tonight before we decide anything?"

"Sounds fair and reasonable," Veronica says as she digs herself out of her chair. "I'm going to start dinner. I hope you're hungry because I'm starving." 

 

**********

"Is that the washing machine I hear?"

"Yeah, I hope it's OK that I'm using it. I went for a run this afternoon and used the clothes I was going to wear tomorrow. No way can I wear them two days in a row."

"You went for another run while I was golfing?"

"Yeah, just a short one to clear my head," Veronica says as she takes the fish out of the oven. She scoops a piece on each of the plates already stacked with beans, broccoli, and carrots. "I didn't go far. Only a few miles." 

"You're impressive." Logan looks at the empty stool next to him and taps the seat. "Are you sitting over here by me tonight?" 

"Sure," she says as she hands him a plate and fills a glass with tap water. "It's a little hard to stand while eating if I have to use both a knife and a fork." She snaps her fingers and says, "Shit, I forgot the berries in the frig." She sits down and places the fruit between the two of them. She pulls her phone out of her waistband and sets it on the counter next to her plate. 

"Delicious. Who knew you were so handy in the kitchen?"

"Thanks. Not too difficult to steam a few vegetables and broil some fish." Veronica nibbles a fork full of carrots and continues. "And I can wear my casual clothes. What could be better than that?"

"I still owe you a real date. When are we going to do that?" 

"You don't owe me anything. After all these years, let's call it even." 

"I'm going to get a complex you don't actually want to date me."

"I don't _date_ much." 

"Good. Then date me."

As if on cue, Veronica's phone buzzes and she peaks at the name on the screen before rejecting the call. "Sorry, I should have turned it off."

"Who's Secret Agent Man?"

"An agent that's trying to entice Mateo to sign with him. I don't want him to sign, and I've asked that he call me and not Mateo."

"No agent calls at 8:30 on a Saturday night."

"He does." 

"And why's that?"

"He's persistent."

"In what capacity?"

"What are you really trying to ask?"

"Are you _dating_ him?"

"No."

"Are you sleeping with him?"

"This is exactly why we need an understanding about what to do about being with other people."

"You didn't answer my question. Are you sleeping with him?"

"Not at the moment."

"But you have?"

"Is that really any of your business?"

"I think it kind of is if he's calling you while we're having dinner."

"Why would you care who I've slept with? How many hundreds of women have you, uh, let's say, kissed in your life? Have I asked about any of them? I asked about your wife and you nearly shut down completely. But, please, let me be the bigger person and reveal the names of the men I've slept with since I was with you."

"If it's hundreds, then it's your fault."

Veronica sets her glass of water down on the marble island as gently as possible and turns and stares at Logan. "Oh, let's hear this. This is going to be good. Please tell me how I'm responsible for your adventures in Slutsville."

"I would have stopped with you years ago. Full stop. No more. If you would have let me. Let us. Be together." 

"Right. So if you couldn't be with me, you might as well fuck as many people as is humanly possible. That makes sense. I don't know why I wasn't doing that." Veronica says sarcastically. 

"Maybe you were."

"Yeah, no. I wasn't. But I'm not going to apologize for the things I've done and the people I've been with. I've tried really hard not to bring instability into Mateo's life, and that includes not bringing men into his home. But you don't get to judge me and the way I've chosen to live my life."

"I'm not judging you, Veronica, but both of our lives could have been so different if you'd had the decency to tell me what you were planning." 

"Christ, Logan, we were teenagers. Can we move on from this? We were so young and there was too much pressure, too much passion, too much love for a couple of fucked up teenagers."

"There's no such thing as too much love, Veronica."

"We didn't, well, I know I didn't, make good decisions when we were together. We were too young to have that much fucking chemistry between us." 

"I've always thought I betrayed you when I got married. It was like I was cheating on you. It wasn't really like that if I slept with someone I didn't care about, but marrying someone besides you was disloyal, at best." 

"You've got to let this marriage thing go. What good is it doing you to hold onto those feelings of resentment about your ex? So you got married and it didn't work. That's half the country, my friend." 

"You're missing my point. You're the one who should have been with me all these years. I fucking hate it that you left me and never contacted me again." 

"If it was so important to you, you could have found me." 

"Have you ever Googled yourself? It's pretty hard to find any info on you."

"I have and that's because Mac scours the internet to erase my footprint. But there were other options." 

"Name one."

"Who's your lawyer?"

"Cliff."

"Cliff and my dad have a standing telephone date every Sunday night at 8:00. Come rain or shine, they don't miss talking to each other. Keith and I don't talk that much, but he calls Cliff without fail. And they bullshit about Padres statistics or some other meaningless garbage. Ever think about asking him? He might have known a thing or two about me." 

"He drafted my prenup."

"Well, maybe that would have been a good time to ask him about me if I was, actually, the person you were thinking about at that point in your life. He's not my lawyer, so he would've had no reason not to talk. No lawyer-client privilege to invoke." 

"It never occurred to me. Fuck. But you didn't contact me. You could have. I would have been easy to find."

"You're right. I didn't. And Mac told me recently your info's readily available for all the world to see. She found pictures of your honeymoon in Bora Bora." 

"When did she tell you this?"

"After we went out for dinner following Mateo's game." 

"And did you look at what Mac had found once you knew?"

"No."

"And Mac never told you anything before that?

"No."

"Before that, you never tried to find me?"

"No."

"Why the fuck not?"

Veronica sighs and lowers her voice. "You deserved better, Logan."

"What the hell, Veronica. I loved you. What's more important than that?" Logan puts his thumb and index finger on his eyes to try to calm himself. 

"Our futures." 

"I don't understand."

"You have to realize we were messed up. It wasn't healthy, us being together. I treated you badly. You treated me badly. People who love each other aren't supposed to do that to each other. And I had to get out of Neptune. I couldn't take that place for another day."

"I would have left with you. We could have learned how to do it right. Together."

"Before we killed each other or said unforgivable things to each other? Because that's where we were headed. I think we were too young to have figured it out. We would have wound up hating each other. There's no doubt in my mind about that." 

"Fuck, Veronica. All I ever wanted was to be able to love you and for you to think I was worthy enough for you to love back."

"Life isn't that simple." 

"It should be." 

"Maybe. But it's not." 

"For some reason, we've been given another chance. I need to see if this can work. We're not kids. Maybe we've got some of the tools to do it right this time." Logan turns his body so they're facing each other on their stools. He puts his hands on both sides of Veronica's face and reaches over and kisses her before resting his forehead on hers. "There's no such thing as too much, Veronica."

"I don't want proclamations of love, Logan. We're just getting to know each other again. We've changed over all these years."

"I don't think who we are at our cores has changed. And I really don't think how we feel about each other has changed."

"Maybe. Maybe there are some parts that don't change no matter how much time goes by. But no grand gestures or declarations. It's too soon, and they make me uncomfortable."

**********

Veronica stands over the washing machine and pulls her garments out and hangs them on hooks, hangers, and any available surface she can find. Logan walks in and watches her organize not only the laundry but the room in general. 

"What do you want to do tonight? I could take you out. Bar? Ice cream? Movie?"

"Oh, I picked up some ice cream this afternoon. It's in the freezer. Help yourself." 

"Late movie?"

"Is there something you want to see?"

"Not really, but I thought you might like to do something more exciting on a Saturday night than cooking and laundry." 

"Or watching me fall asleep on the couch." 

"Or that." 

"Sure. Whatever you want is fine," Veronica says having had the entire conversation with her back to Logan. 

"Poker?"

"With only 2 people? Not ideal. And I'd feel badly taking all your money. "

"Is that a challenge?" 

"Oh, you'd know if I was challenging you. You know what game I picked up in the dorms? Rummy. Ever play?" 

"Can't say that I have." Logan leans against the wall. "Am I going to have every discussion the rest of the night with the back of your head?"

"Just trying to clean up so it looks like I was a good guest." 

"It's cleaner than when we arrived." 

"Thank you for noticing."

"I didn't bring any cards with me, but if you want to play, we could run out and buy some." 

"I always have a couple of decks in the car. But if we're going to play poker tonight, I'm also going to need a case of beer, a carton of cigarettes, reflective sunglasses, and a transparent visor." 

"If sunglasses and a visor are all you'll be wearing, I'm all in," Logan teases as he watches her bend over, digging in the cabinet under the sink to find a new home for the detergent. He would believe she's taunting him with the way she's positioned her body in front of him, but she seems too focused on reorganizing to know what she's doing to him. "Is that what you want to do? Poker?"

"Poker? I hardly know 'er," Veronica deadpans. "Honestly, I really don't care, Logan. You decide." 

"You didn't care where we stayed. You didn't care that I went golfing. You didn't care what we watched on TV. Tonight you don't care what we do. What do you care about, Veronica? Do you even care that we're here together?"

Veronica finally stands straight and turns around to face Logan. "Have you been trying to pick a fight with me all day? Because it seems like I'm going out of my way to take things in stride while you're going out of your way to piss me off." 

"Well, if you got pissed off at me then at least I'd know you have the ability to show any kind of emotion. I mean, do you have any feelings towards me? Any feelings in there you'll actually allow to come to the surface?"

"Are you saying that when I slept with you last weekend, last night, and this morning, I showed no feeling. Is that right? Fuck you for implying that I'm lousy lay."

"I didn't imply that. You inferred it."

"No, you implied it. And don't get into a semantics argument with a lawyer."

"What kind of an argument should I get into with you?"

"I don't know, Logan. None. What exactly is it you want from me?"

Logan takes two steps towards Veronica, puts his arms around her waist, and lifts her onto the washing machine. "I want you. All of you and only you," he whispers in her ear. "I want you in the laundry room. I want you on the couch. I want you in the back seat of your SUV. I want you in bed. I want you on the deck." Logan stops talking and places his mouth on her neck as his hands slide around her hips. 

"Lo. Oh. Gan," she swallows as she feels his hands move down the back of her pants. "You are so fucked up."

"Am I?" Logan asks as he separates from her and lifts her sweatshirt over her head. 

"Were you trying to make me mad? Because that's messed up," Veronica says as she unhooks her bra and throws it to the floor. 

"I like you when you're a little fiery, bobcat," he admits as he lifts her off the machine and slips her pants over her hips in one swift move before placing her back on top of the white surface. 

"You know, we're supposed to have sex when the machine's running. Vibrations and all. Not after the laundry's finished and I've just cleaned the whole room." 

"Please. Shut. Up. And. Let. Me. Fuck. You." 

"Now who's fiery?"

"Veronica."

"You got a condom in your wallet or are you just teasing me with all this?"

Logan pulls his billfold from his back pocket and hands it to Veronica. "Find it," he growls while sucking on her neck and pinching her nipples. 

"Look what I found," Veronica jokes and grips the package between her teeth. Logan glances at her face and yanks the condom from her. "And don't you dare leave any marks on my neck or I'll return the favor." 

Logan growls again, unzips his pants, lets them and his boxers hang at his thighs, and rolls the condom on. He pulls Veronica closer to the edge of the machine and she hooks her arms around his neck. He stares into her blue eyes and kisses her again. "Yeah?" he asks. 

"Yeah," she consents and moans as Logan enters her. "Don't mess around, Logan. Just fuck me." 

"Say that again, bobcat," Logan pleads. 

"Just fuck me, Logan." 

And he does just that. 

**********

"No."

"No, what?" Veronica tries to clarify while tipping the green beer bottle from her lips and setting it next to her hip on the wood floor. 

"No, I don't want you doing _that_ ," Logan says as he points his thumb behind him in a general direction, "with anyone else." 

" _That_ ," Veronica replies and mimics his hand gesture, "was never our problem. I seem to recall _this_ ," she moves her hand in front of her and points with her thumb between them, "was even more agonizing than the fucking chemistry." 

"It wasn't all agony. There was lots that was good. Really good."

Veronica and Logan are sitting next to each other on the kitchen floor. She's wearing her sweatshirt and underwear but no pants. Logan's fully dressed but his trousers are unbuttoned and unbuckled, his shirt is untucked, and he's holding in his palm a pint of ice cream with a spoon sticking out of it.

"We'll have to leave money for this beer I stole from the frig," Veronica notes as she attempts to change the subject. 

"We'll buy a new 6-pack tomorrow to replace it." 

"We should hire a cleaning service." 

"It's already taken care of. Spend the next 12 hours being irresponsible, would you please?" 

"Logan, if we do _this_ , do you think we'll be any better at it this time around?"

"Yeah, I do." 

"How can you be sure?"

"Because I don't think we could have even had these kinds of, uh, discussions before without one of us saying something shitty while the other storms out." 

"Me storming, you shitty."

"Usually. But not always."

"What I hate most are the times when I was both shitty and storming." 

"We've got to stop thinking about the things we hated. We were too good together to have so many bad memories." 

Veronica leans over rests her head on his shoulder. "This was better than a late movie, right?" 

Logan reaches up and puts the pint container on the counter over his head and takes Veronica's hand in his. He moves it to his lips and kisses. "I can't think of a better way to spend my Saturday night than sitting next to you on the kitchen floor." 

"I know you're joking, but it really is pretty great." Veronica takes another drink before continuing. "Logan, can I tell you something without you judging me?"

"I'm pretty good at not judging most people." 

"It's about my dad."

"I'm not quite as good about not judging fathers, but I'll do my best." 

Veronica took a deep breath before beginning. "When Mateo's dad died, Keith and his wife came for the memorial. And he, well they, said some shit that was pretty, um, unkind. Then they left. And he called me after he got back home and apologized for what he'd said. I told him he was entitled to his opinions, and I said it was fine. But I've never really thought it was fine. And things have never been the same. I'm so tired of being angry at him, but I don't know how to move on and forgive him. I don't know how to go back to the way things were." 

"Maybe we both need to learn how to forgive and move on. Maybe we make a deal to hold each other accountable for taking the next steps in forgiving people. You work on your relationship with your dad, and I'll try to stop thinking about my ex as an evil, hypercritical, manipulating, cheating bitch."

"Yikes. Remind me to avoid getting on your bad side," Veronica says with a smile. "Maybe we both do have a few issues to work through." 

"Who doesn't?"

"Logan, do you forgive me for the things I said and did to you all those years ago?"

"I did that a long time ago, Ronnie. Maybe the only thing I haven't been able to get over is you never talking to me again. I'm not sure I deserved that. At the very least, we could have been friends."

"That never seemed to work out too well, either."

"Because we both knew we were meant to be so much more than friends." 

"I'm sorry I left without saying goodbye, and I'm sorry I didn't try to find out how you were doing. You're right. You didn't deserve that." 

"What was that? Could you say part of that again? You know that part where you said I was right."

Veronica smirks and moves the beer bottle an arm's length away from her on the floor. She turns into Logan, scoots herself up, and reaches up to his ear. "You were right and you are right. I'm sorry, Logan. I'm really sorry, and you're right," she whispers. 

Logan adjusts his head so his mouth is close to her ear. "I'm sorry, Veronica. I'm sorry for all the shit we went through. I'm sorry I didn't look harder for you. I'm sorry I gave up on us. I'm sorry I married someone else. You weren't just right. You are right. You're the right one for me. Always has been. Always will be. I don't want you to spend your Saturday nights sitting on the kitchen floor with anyone but me." 

"I can't think of anyone I'd rather spend time with on the kitchen floor," Veronica breathes into his ear. 

Logan embraces her and turns her until she's flat on the floor and he's hovering over her. "You are so much better than a midnight movie," he says as he tugs at her underwear. 

"This time you have to get naked too." 

"Oh, we're both getting naked, bobcat. No doubt about that. And I'm going to show you how much I forgive you. And how sorry you'll be if you ever disappear on me again. You and me. As it should have been and as it should be. You and me."

**********

"Good game, catcher. Can I get your autograph?"

"Depends on what you want me to sign." Mateo separates from the other guys leaving the locker room, leans into Katie, and puts his arm around her waist. As he reaches around to take her mouth in his, all the nerves of seeing her again leave his body. In that moment, he knows all he wants to do is touch her, wash her in kisses, and be inside her. He hears catcalls behind him and flips off his teammates without breaking his kiss, his hand dropping to her tight bottom. "Fuck, I've missed touching you," he says as he gulps for air. 

"Get in the car or I might be charged with indecent behavior in a public parking lot." 

"Unlock, Dutch," Mateo instructs before throwing his duffle into the clean, roomy trunk of Katie's red Jetta. He slams it closed and jumps into the front passenger seat. 

"Don't call me that. That's for work, and you're for play." 

Mateo leans across and kisses her neck. "Now can we make out?"

"Think we can wait until we're out of sight of the team bus?"

"I don't give a fuck what those morons think." 

"I do."

"Well, then drive away and pull into the first dark alley you can find." 

"We don't need a dark alley. We have a hotel room."

"God, yes."

"Aren't you hungry?"

"Starving."

"Food or sex?"

"Sophie's Choice. Don't make me choose." 

"I think it should be food because once we get back to the hotel, I have a feeling we aren't going to be anxious to leave." 

Mateo removes his hand from Katie's upper thigh and says, "OK. Give me a minute to get myself together. I can't go out in public like this. White Sox, Red Sox, Angels, Yankees, Orioles."

"I don't think baseball players are supposed to think about baseball when they want to calm down. That doesn't make sense. It's got to be something that doesn't mean anything to you." 

"Stop talking." Mateo closes his eyes. "I can't see you or hear you if I'm going to be able to get back into my head." Mateo opens his window. "Oh, and open your window. I can't smell you, either." 

Katie shakes her head but opens her window and feels the warm southern California wind on her face. She estimates they've texted each other dozens, probably hundreds, of times since they first met a week ago. They've talked and Facetimed, but there is nothing like being next to the man who has turned her upside down in a matter of days. 

"OK. I think I've got it together. Where're we going?"

"What do feel like?"

"I'd like to feel you all over me. Fuck, now I'm thinking about you naked again." 

"I never think about you naked."

"Except for those times when we were..."

"OK, I don't need to be reminded of the things I shouldn't have been doing with my phone." Katie stops in the left hand lane and waits for the green arrow to appear. "How about a bar? Burger?"

"We can't drink tonight, Kates."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm already out of my mind. I can't lose control with alcohol too. Oh, and if you see a CVS or Walgreens on the way, we should probably stop in." 

Katie turns into the business district and looks for a parking spot. "What the hell, Mats. You knew I'd be here and you're that unprepared. Since it's your rule, you really should think ahead." 

"What did you want me to do? Stop the team bus so I could pick up condoms? What do you think the coach's reaction to that request would be?" 

"He'd probably be happy you don't want to knock me up." 

"Please we have to stop talking about condoms and knocking you up. Marlins, Cubs, Dodgers, Astros. Braves." 

Katie pulls into a parking stall and turns off the car. Genetic Brewing Company is in front of them. "I need a beer, Mats. I've got to take this edge off. I sat through that whole fucking game without a beer afraid you'd quiz me on one of the plays." 

"I didn't see you. Where were you hiding?"

"Behind a rowdy group of teenagers. I figured you'd never suspect I'd be there. I didn't want to distract you." 

"Sorry, babe, but there isn't much that can distract me when I get on the field. Not even you." 

Katie exits the car. "You know just what to say to make a girl feel good." 

Mateo closes his door and takes Katie's hand as she walks next to him. "You're no girl. You're all woman. You're my badass, beer drinking, fighter pilot woman." He drops his hand and rests it on her butt. "Who, incidentally, has a fantastic ass." 

"Look who's talking. I've never seen a nicer ass on a man in my life. And I've seen a lot of military asses." Mateo stops her before the door to the brewery and pulls her to the side. He pins her into the wall on the side of the building before kissing her, teasing her tongue, pulling her bottom lip. His hands run from her neck to her waist brushing the sides of her breasts in what feels like less than a millisecond. He pushes into her and she pushes back feeling how much he wants her. He pulls away slightly and sinks his head into her neck. "Fuck, Kates, what have you done to me?" 

Katie runs her hands through his short, thick, black hair. "No, the question is what have you done to me? We can't act like this on a public street. And we're too old to be acting like horny teenagers."

"Mariners, Mets, Reds, Brewers."

"Brewers. That's appropriate. Here we are at a brewery. Miller, Miller Lite, Leinie's, Pabst, Heineken." They look at each other and Mateo runs his hand across her cheek before giving her a small peck on the lips. "You ready?" Katie asks. 

"I think so. No dessert. Promise me. No dessert." 

"Promise." 

********** 

Since they've taken seats at the bar, Mateo hasn't stopped touching Katie. His knee knocks hers. His hand caresses her neck. His fingers lock together with hers. His hand rests on her thigh. The world is being told to stay the fuck away from them, especially from her. They each have a pint of the local IPA and a glass of water and are waiting for their burgers to arrive. 

"You gonna tell your family you're seeing a guy who looks like me?"

"You mean gorgeous, cut, and sexy?"

"No, brown."

"Please. They're so liberal, they'll be disappointed you aren't a female minority."

"What about me being a baseball player? Not exactly an ideal career path for the boyfriend of their only daughter."

"Honestly, I'll bet that the first thing they'd want to know is what you and professional baseball are doing to overturn the patriarchal system in America?"

"That's the best question I've ever heard about baseball," Mateo laughs loudly. "Usually, the only thing people ask is what my batting average is. I could seriously be down with a conversation with your parents." Mateo takes a swig of his beer. "So your family is super-liberal and you're in the military? How'd that happen?"

"No idea why, but I've been obsessed with airplanes for as long as I can remember. All I ever wanted was to be a pilot, but my parents insisted I get a real college degree. So, I did. Applied mathematics from Pepperdine. Best place for beach volleyball ever. But I finished early and signed up to fly planes. Isn't a math degree so boring?"

"No, it's pretty hot, actually. Smart chicks rock. You're everything that turns me on. Intelligent, older, and sexy. Fucking hot," Mateo says as he leans and kisses her red hair. "And now you're in the navy and you vote red in a blue state. Told your parents to fuck off with their liberal ideals."

"Hardly. You think I want some asshole in Washington telling me what I can do with my body or that it's OK that I make less than the male pilots? But I've got rules to follow and people to report to. If I want to fly, I have to make some compromises. I can't imagine I'll re-up, but this is the best way to get experience. I can put up with the bullshit for a few years."

"Don't we all have to put up with some bullshit? That's the only path there is in life." 

"I'm pretty sure there are people who spend a lot more of their time distributing the bullshit rather than wading through it."

"And I bet you're surrounded by a lot those people every day." 

"How'd you guess? Honestly, most of the other pilots don't even seem to notice me. You can't believe the stuff I hear because they don't pay attention to me being in the same room." 

"Like what?"

"For one thing, you should hear what I've heard them mention about Logan."

"What about him?"

"Have you Googled him?"

"I'm not sure I even know his last name. Why would I care about him? He won't be around long. Veronica doesn't get into long-term things. And she doesn't put up with bullshit. If he's full of it, she'll walk away. Even if he isn't, she'll walk away. I'm sure she won't leave Palo Alto." 

"Echolls. C-H and two Ls."

"Now?" 

"No, but some time."

"Am I going to be pissed?"

"Maybe."

"You know if he does anything to Veronica, I'll fuck him up."

"Sure, Mats. You're my big, strong professional athlete, but, babe, you've met Logan."

"You don't think I could take him," Mateo says and for the first time since they sat down, he distances himself from Katie's body.

"Not likely. He's got some muscle mass on you," Katie says as she puts her hand on his knee. "You want to go against someone like that, you've got to be smart. Smarter. And, god knows, you're smarter than just about anyone I've ever met."

"Was that a slam or a compliment?"

"Just a statement, really. I watch you play baseball, and it's the weirdest thing I've witnessed. You're like a chess player strategizing what three moves to make in the future. And there's no way you could know what's going to happen in three plays because no one does. No one can predict where the ball is going to go, but somehow you read it. You see what no one else does." 

"Baseball can be analyzed like anything else. It's not that tough. A few simple things. Pay attention. Stay focused. Notice what's happening. Concentrate. Discipline. Practice. Oh, and a shitload of competiveness. And I really fucking hate to lose."

"You're not like other people. Like other players. You're great physically, but it's your brain that's going to rock the baseball world." 

"Lots of guys are smart," Mateo says humbly. "And just because I'm lean doesn't mean I'm not strong. I'm sure I could take him. Remember, I'm pretty good with a baseball bat."

"And Logan's got guns and bombs, so, again, you need to be smarter. Always play to your strengths."

"Am I going to need to be smarter with him? What do you know?"

"He's got a pretty colorful history." 

"I don't really care about shit like that. The only thing that would bother me is if he ever hurt Veronica."

"I never heard that, but the guys talk about how they knew his marriage was going to fail because he used to talk about Veronica all the time. How she was the one who got away. And then all of a sudden, he upped and married someone else. They figured his wife could never live up to his expectations." 

"Did I know he was married? Honestly, I care so little about the guy. Why would I? I've never heard her talk about him. Ever. So I'm not sure she felt the same way he did. She never mentioned him to me. Before she bumped into him at the game, that is," Mateo says as he leans back over to touch Katie. 

"Really?"

"But she doesn't talk about guys. You know, not in specific terms. I mean, of course, she's, like, getting some, you know, but she doesn't talk about it. She's discreet, I guess you'd say." 

"She doesn't talk specifics, but does she talk in general terms?" 

The bartender drops off their food and leaves ketchup and mustard between their plates. Mateo drops his hand from Katie's thigh and adjusts his leg so his knee and calf are flush to hers. 

"I'm not sure I know what you mean. What do you really want to know about her?" Mateo asks as he cuts his burger in half. 

"Let's start with the fact that you have an unusual relationship. What do I need to know about it?"

Mateo pauses before he takes a bite, sets the burger back down on the plate, and wipes his hands on his napkin. "In some ways our relationship is so simple and in some ways it's so complicated, you know? I can see that you'd wonder about it." 

Katie jabs her fries with her fork and pops them in her mouth. "Is that all I'm going to get?" 

"In one way or another, Veronica's been in my life about as long as my real mom was. I mean, she's not technically family but she's, like, the most stable person I've got." Mateo tries not to talk with food in his mouth, but he can't stop himself from shoveling the burger in as fast as possible. "You know, I only had a few years with my mom. She died when I was seven, and, of course, I can't remember the first of those years." 

"I'm sorry about your mom. That must have been awful." 

"Thanks. Yeah, it was a bitch, but my dad was around for the next 10 years. They divorced when I was really little, and they pretty much hated each other. They'd be civil in public, but you could tell my mom was always pissed at my dad. When she died and I moved in with my dad, I never heard from her family in Spain again." Mateo takes another bite of his burger and is already 2/3 of the way through his meal. He eyes Katie's plate as she nibbles at the fries. "What else do you want to know?"

"Anything. Everything." 

"Since you're hardly eating, you tell me something while I finish." 

"My parents were college sweethearts and they've been married for 30 some years. They're still like lovebirds around each other. When I was growing up, it was so embarrassing to have parents who held hands when they walked into the high school gym. Now, it just seems kind of sweet. They act like old hippies who should be into free love and drugs and shit, but they don't even drink wine and are completely and utterly devoted to each other."

"I honestly can't imagine." 

"I had a perfect childhood. Older brothers who tormented me and protected me. We played sports in the backyard. We sang songs in the car on road trips. We had to volunteer in the community 5 hours a month once we turned 16. It was nothing but love, love, love." 

"Is that even possible in this day and age?"

"I guess so because it's true." Katie watches Mateo brush off his mouth with his napkin before saying, "Do you want my burger? I'm really not hungry. I don't know why I ordered it." 

"You ordered it for me, didn't you?" Mateo reaches over and snags the sandwich and doesn't bother to cut it or add condiments before biting into it. "Thanks. I owe you." 

"Maybe I'll be able to think of a few ways you can make it up to me later tonight." 

"You can't talk like that to me in a public place. It's going to be embarrassing if I can't get out of this chair." 

"Maybe we should just have sex right here at the bar."

"Seriously, you can't say shit like that to me. You're just being mean."

"You're right. I'm teasing you while you're in a very vulnerable state," Katie says laughing. 

"So find something else to talk about that won't turn me on."

"Is there such a topic?"

"Noam Chomsky, maybe."

"God, you really are an intellectual." 

"I'd rather talk about baseball and beer. How's that for intellectual?"

"Right up my alley," Katie says before changing the subject. "I still want to understand about your relationship with Veronica."

"Why? You jealous?" He wiggles his eyebrows at her and gives a small smile while he's chewing. 

"Maybe. You seem incredibly devoted to her," Katie says as she puts her hand on Mateo's shoulder.

"I hope I am. She saved me." Mateo shoves the last of the sandwich in his mouth before he grabs a few fries. 

"Holy mother of fuck, you eat so fast. Did you just inhale that burger?" 

"I'm still fucking starving," he says as he takes the last swallow of his beer. 

"I can tell. How did she save you?"

"Do you really want to talk about all of this? Wouldn't you rather just go back to the hotel and let me do lots of naughty things to you? What're you going to let me do to you?" 

"What about surprise and spontaneity? Do I have to call all the plays in this relationship?" She winks and smiles while asking the questions.

Mateo pauses before looking her directly in the eye, no hint of a smile on his face. "Yeah, you actually do." 

"Come on. You're a professional athlete. You can't be that much of a gentleman."

"Kates, I'm gonna be real with you. We're not doing anything you don't want to do. Simple as that. That's the number one thing Veronica drilled into me over and over again. It's personal for her." 

"What do you mean it's personal for her?"

"She doesn't like her business out for public consumption, so I feel badly talking about it. But, yeah, she was raped, and she wants to make sure I never do anything like that to anyone. Always get consent, you know." 

"Oh my god. I'm such a fucking idiot." Katie rubs her hands over her head. "The first conversation I had with her I talked about rape statistics in the military." 

"So?"

"So, that was pretty insensitive, don't you think?"

"No. You didn't know what happened to her. And she's more than capable of having a discussion about rape statistics without breaking down." 

"God, I wonder if Logan knows."

"I don't know, but you can't tell him. Veronica would kill me if she knew I was talking about her." 

"I know. I know."

"That's why I didn't want us to drink tonight. You, well both us, have to be able to make sound decisions, and when I look at you, I don't have full capacity of the rational part of my brain." 

"I think there was a compliment somewhere in there," Katie says as she leans over and gives Mateo a kiss on the cheek before he turns his head and kisses her lips. 

"You know, you don't need to be jealous. Veronica's a combination of a sister, a mother, and a best friend, but I could never see her as attractive. In any way."

"That's kind of mean. She's adorable. Beautiful. Tiny enough to fit in a pocket. Smart." 

"True, but Veronica gave up a lot for me. I would feel terrible if I disrespected her by thinking about her in a way I shouldn't. Plus, she slept with my dad. Gross. Right?" 

"What did she give up?"

"Oh man, this is going to take time. You sure you want to do this now? We only have, like, 12 hours together. We could be having sex." 

"Give me the short version."

"Where to start? Let's go with my dad. He and my mom broke up because he cheated on her. Once was too much for my mom, but it may actually have been more than once." Mateo takes a drink of water before continuing. "After I moved in with my dad, it became pretty clear what kind of a life he was living. There was a stream of women in and out of the house. I never knew who would be in the kitchen when I woke up on Saturday or Sunday morning. I didn't really care, but it wasn't, like, very much stability, you know. 

"I can imagine."

"Then all of sudden after years of watching this, the women stopped. A couple months later, this young blonde co-ed way smaller than me comes over for dinner one night and dad introduces her as his girlfriend. Never had done that before. I immediately knew she was different. She was never in the kitchen on Saturday mornings, but she would be outside the house early to grab him for a run." Mateo motions to the bartender for the check and for more water. "Are you bored yet?"

"Quite the opposite." 

"She cooked dinner once in awhile, took me to practices, talked politics and books with my dad on the couch, and then my dad would say he was taking Veronica home and he'd be back soon. And he always was. He came back every time. Alone. Sure, sometimes it took him a few hours to make his way home, but I can't remember one time when I woke up when he wasn't there or when she was in the house."

"And you liked the changes?"

"Yeah. I really did. He changed for her. It was clear she'd set up some serious rules with my dad, but he seemed to accept them all. Even though she worked hard to keep up the boundaries, she told me I could call her anytime I needed something, and she'd do her best to help me." 

"At what point do you tell me she's a horrible person because it's not getting any easier to dislike her?" 

"Right about now."

"Good."

"So, I wake up one morning and she's sitting at the kitchen table. In her running outfit. With her hands covering her face. And she tells me that she killed my dad."

"Get the fuck out."

"That's what she said. Those exact words. She said she pushed him to go another mile that morning because she was starting to train for a half marathon. And he collapsed and died. And she said it was all her fault and she was so sorry that she had killed my dad." 

"Oh my god." 

"Right. Of course, I knew it wasn't her fault, and I didn't blame her. And eventually, the M.E. said my dad had an undiagnosed condition that could've stopped his heart at any point. It's horrible she saw it happen and she had so much guilt, but, honestly, I'm glad it happened around her and not me. I would have been wrecked if he had collapsed at one of my games or another time when it would have been just the two of us together. I'm not sure I could have handled it." 

"Not many kids could."

"So I'm 17 and parentless, and Veronica is a mess. But I call her later the night he died, and I ask her if she can help me. Cause I'm, like, having a serious breakdown. And she came to the house. And I asked her to move in because I didn't think I could survive. Like, I, literally, didn't think I could survive. And she did. She moved in. Just like that. I'm sure it was a tough decision for her, but she never made me believe that. She just did it and accepted it and tried to be good to me." 

"So by giving up a lot, you mean she gave up her apartment?"

"I wish. She doesn't know it, but I overheard some of the conversations she had with people after my dad's memorial service. The worst one was when she was talking to her dad and stepmother in her bedroom. Her stepmom, by the way, is a little, uh, unusual. Sorry to, uh, judge. I know I shouldn't. But she kept telling me she was praying for me. And she cleaned the whole house while she was there. Twice. And she insisted on calling me Matthew." 

"A wicked stepmother. Nice addition to the story." 

"She's not wicked exactly, just not, I guess, like, what I'm used to. Her dad was telling her she had to get her priorities straight and that she'd always made bad decisions when it came to men and she was too young to take on the responsibility of looking out for a teenage boy. And then he said he was tired of watching her make mistakes and he didn't want to do it anymore." 

"What'd she say?"

"She said, 'He needs me. I'm staying'." 

"That's it." 

"Well, there was more after that. Her stepmother kept going on and on saying she was throwing away her life for a dead man who never had any intention of marrying her and who was just using her to have someone to take care of his son and he'd never had her best interests at heart."

"Sounds awful."

"Yeah, and it's weird because I've never heard Veronica say she wants to get married. So I don't know why it would have been so important for my dad to marry her."

"Maybe they just wanted to make sure someone would be there to look out for her."

"She's one person who doesn't need anyone to take care of her." 

"Even Veronica needs someone besides you in her life, Mat."

"Well, it was sad because I'm pretty sure she and her dad had been really close. Before my dad died, when she'd mention her dad, she'd always smile. She tries not to show me, but it's pretty obvious she doesn't have a close relationship with him now." 

"What about her mom?"

"She's really cagey about talking about her mom. Usually just says something about her being an alcoholic, rolls her eyes, and changes the subject." 

"So, she feels guilty and you feel indebted." 

"It's more than that. I don't think I can really explain it. We shared this traumatic event, and it bonded us in a way other people couldn't understand. She could have walked away, but she clung on to me and I did to her."

"That makes sense."

"Plus, I can talk to her about things I can't talk about with anyone else. And she's usually rational about every big decision I bring to her. I talked to her about the first girl I slept with, getting shitfaced for the first time, the scholarships I wanted to turn down, and going into the draft. She certainly didn't care about any of the sex stuff I talked about, but she was really pissed about me not going to graduate school. I thought she was going to walk out and never come back."

"What's the big deal with that? You can go to graduate school whenever you want."

"But it was important to my parents. I think she thought she'd let them both down when I signed up for the minors. She said she was tired of letting people down." 

"You were an adult. You could make your own decisions."

"Yep, and I did. And she's as supportive as she can be about this decision. Last summer, she spent six weeks in the Midwest going to my games." 

"Now I'm jealous not just of your bond but that she may be a better person than me."

"Don't be jealous. That's like me being jealous of one of your brothers. It's not the same kind of bond."

"You know what might prove that to me?"

"What?"

"Let's go back to the hotel and I'll show you."

"Kates, I want that so much. Like, more than I want to play in tomorrow's game." Mateo throws down a $50 bill and grabs Katie's hand. He leads the way out the door, holding it open for her. "Find a CVS pronto." 

"It's almost midnight. I don't think they'll be open."

"24-hour Walmart. Convenience store. I don't give a fuck where. Just find a place."

They find their way back into the car and Katie uses her phone to find the directions to the nearest Walmart. As she taps her phone, Mateo leans over and kisses her neck while running his hand up her thigh and reaches under her shorts to touch her through her underwear. "Mat, I can't concentrate while you're doing that. And I'm not getting out of the car to buy your condoms. Get yourself together."

"Modelo, Corona, Amstel," he says as he leans back into his chair. "Sam Adams, Rolling Rock, Guinness, Blue Moon." 

"OK, now you're just making me thirsty. Found one." 

They drive in silence with the windows down for 5 minutes before Katie pulls into the almost-empty Walmart parking lot. Mateo gets out of the car without acknowledging her, and she turns off the car. She waits. And waits. And waits for 20 minutes before she sees Mateo returning with four bags in his hands. 

"What the fuck is all this?" Katie questions.

"As long as I was there I thought I should stock up. I needed shampoo, soap, toothpaste, Gatorade, gum, pretzels, deodorant, ear plugs. You know. The basics. I keep a running list of stuff I need in my wallet." 

"I hope you remembered condoms in with all that shopping."

"Oh, right. Yeah, got those too." 

"Are you sure I'm a priority tonight?" 

"You know what I want more than anything?"

"What?"

"To go down on you. To run my tongue up your thigh and not stop." 

"Oh, fuck. That was not what I thought you were going to say."

"What do you say? Do I have permission?"

"Yeah."

"How fast can you get out of your clothes once we hit that room?"

"Three seconds."

"I'll time you." 

The ride back to the hotel, parking, and waiting for the elevator to deliver them to the correct floor seems endless but is only about 8 and a half minutes total, not that they're counting. When the room door closes, Mateo says, "Three, two, one. My turn." He pulls her t-shirt and sports bra over her head and tugs at the drawstring to loosen her shorts. He drops to his knees and pulls her shorts and underwear down as he goes. She steps out of them when she feels them hit the floor, and Mateo tosses them to the side. In that first three seconds, she only manages to flip her shoes off, but Mateo has her naked in 10 more seconds. "Babe, spread your legs," he says as he bites her inner thigh. 

"Don't you want to go to the bed?" Katie asks as she's backed up naked against the wall, widening her stance. 

"Catchers are good on their knees." 

"I want a shirt made with that saying on the front."

Katie feels his light stubble brush against her skin as Mateo's tongue makes erratic patterns. His thick black hair taunts her as it combines with her red mound. His warm breath on her cool skin sends shivers along her arms and legs. He teases her, denying her the touch of his hands as he presses them against the wall she perches against. 

He kisses up one thigh, continues above her pubic hair onto her flat stomach, and finds his way back down the other thigh. Katie can't contain the small noise that finds its way from her throat. She is on the verge of embarrassment with how wet she feels. She needs something - underwear, a towel, a finger, or, preferably, his tongue - to take the feeling away, to stop the thought that soon her own juices will be running down her leg. 

Unable to control himself any longer, Mateo removes his hands from the wall and strokes both thighs before letting them wander farther. Mateo's hands dart between the inside of her thighs and the bottom of her rear. Not wanting to deny himself any more pleasure, he slides his tongue into her sex, and she moans, drops her head to the wall, and rubs the top of his head. He lifts one of her legs onto his shoulder and finds room to use his fingers to tease her. He eases a finger into her, and he hears her gasp. "Babe, how much do you want me?"

"More than any man I've ever known," she whispers.

"I know you do. I can feel you do." 

"I only want you, Mat."

"I can taste you do."

"Only you."

He slides another finger into her while playing with her clit with his tongue. He finds a rhythm that goes along with the movement of his thumb that's stroking anything it can find. He moves his thumb to her clit and starts sucking his way down her thigh and bites again. 

"My sweet, delicious Katje. Every inch of you tastes like _gezellig_ ," he says proud of himself for how much Dutch he's learned in only a week, letting her know she is all that is good, cozy, and home. He sucks on her inside thigh long enough for a bruise to appear. His fingers rock inside her and her hips leave the wall in rhythm with his hands. 

"Fuck, Mat, please. I want this so much." 

Raising one arm, his hand crawls up her stomach until he feels the underside of her breast. When his fingers reach the nipple, his tongue goes back to her clit. Mateo can already hear her breathing change and she releases her hands from his head and steadies herself on the wall with the back of her hands. She's never before experienced the flash of light in front of her as she comes, and her breathing is so shallow, she's afraid she might fall over. 

Mateo slips her leg back to the floor and stands up in front of her. He slowly drags his fingers from inside her up her stomach, around each nipple, and across her collarbone with the unique taste that is only her. He looks at her closed eyes and longs to see her look at him. He loves it that they are nearly the same height, that they are equals in so many ways. As he kisses her neck, he takes one of her hands and clutches it to his groin, increasing the sensation to his erection. Katie opens her eyes slightly and looks at him as if she's never seen him before. "I forgot. You still have your clothes on." 

"You're so beautiful, Katie. I could look at you all night."

"Remember nothing we say during sex counts. Because it's just the endorphins talking." 

"Right. What we have here is nothing more than a hormonal rush." 

Mateo folds her into his arms and kisses her lips. He watches her close her eyes and feels her rub her hand where his hair meets his neck. He twirls them around until they are next to the bed. He releases her and pulls back the bedspread to reveal the crisp, white sheets. He pulls the sheets down to the edge of the bed. "Get in, babe." 

Katie lies on the bed and looks at Mateo as he leans back against the wall staring at her. "What are you doing?" 

"Looking at you. You're a masterpiece. My priceless Dutch masterpiece. If you had been born hundreds of years ago, the greatest artists would have wanted to paint you. They would have fought battles for the right to see you naked." 

"And I let you do it for a couple of quick orgasms." 

"Luckiest guy in the whole fucking world." 

"Come to bed, Mat." 

Mateo kneels on the bed and then lowers himself next to Katie. He wants nothing more than to hold her until his arms go numb and kiss her until his lips are chapped. "Kates?"

"Don't say anything more, Mat. Just take your clothes off, grab a condom, and come back to bed." And Mateo does just as she commands. 

**********

A few hours later when Mateo's phone alarm goes off, the two of them are tangled together with no sheets covering either of them. "No, not already," Katie says into the back of Mateo's head. She runs a fingernail down his spine and caresses each butt cheek before pulling herself onto his back and kissing him behind his ear. She hooks her arm under his and slides up and down against him creating friction she's surprised she desires so quickly after waking. Even though Mateo remains quiet, she knows he's awake because he presses into her the moments she needs it. She moans lightly and has a hitch in her breath. 

Mateo rolls slightly and tugs her wrist until he has her hand flat on his chest. He pulls it down across his torso until they reach his growing organ and uses both of their hands to stroke him until he's fully hard. He lets go of her and rolls towards her and brings his hand back to hers, moaning at the pleasure of her hand and his pressure. Slowly, he releases her hand and lifts her leg onto his hip. He lets his hand wander through her tuft of hair until he feels her heat. As he slides his fingers inside her, he knows she's as ready as he is. 

He turns away from her and steps off the bed before Katie grabs his hand. "Not this time," she says and pulls him back towards her. 

He gazes at her, and then he situates himself at the top of the bed with the pillows propped behind his back. His shins press down on the bed and he looks like he's ready to begin morning prayers or meditation. All the years of yoga and living in a catcher's position behind home plate makes sitting back on his legs as natural as standing or reclined on a bed. 

He tugs Katie's hand and motions with his head for her to join him. She sits on his lap, crosses her legs around him, and reaches behind him to grip the headboard. He leans back and she lowers herself onto him, both of them moaning as he enters her. He thrusts into her and pulls himself back out. He does it again and again until Katie finds the tempo he wants and takes the lead. He pushes into her harder and deeper until he confesses and speaks his first words of the day to her, "Babe, I'm not gonna last long." Katie speeds up her rocking and pulls herself closer to his chest. Mateo's hand wanders down and brushes her clit faster than the rhythm he's set. "Fuck me," Mateo pants as he releases into her and groans from what sounds like the depths of his soul. 

"Keep going," Katie begs as she keeps her motion on top of him steady. Mateo continues to rub her and uses his other hand to grip her beautiful ass. He takes one of her nipples into his mouth and plays with it using his tongue and teeth. "Christ," she whispers and he feels her insides tighten and convulse. "Oh, god, Mat. Fuck. Mat." She slows her motion until her breathing evens. "Mat?"

"Babe." 

"Morning."

"Yeah," he says kissing her neck. "Morning wood is good wood."

"Does everything circle back to baseball for you?"

"Pretty much." 

"Breakfast before you have to meet the team?" 

"Yes, yes, yes, yes. I am so fucking hungry." 

"I heard you up during the night. What were you eating?"

"Bananas. I thought you wouldn't be able to hear me if I ate something soft." 

"Other than me, you mean," Katie teases and kisses his cheek and then his temple. 

"You're so crude. You need to stop hanging around those other pilots. They're corrupting you."

She looks at their joined bodies and then her lips are back to kiss him again, this time his other cheek, other temple. "Maybe I should get off, huh?"

"If I'm not mistaken, I think we both did just get off." 

"Now who's the crude one?"

Mateo puts his hands on both sides of Katie's head and looks at her without talking and without kissing. He just scans her eyes trying to analyze what's behind them, inside her. Katie is sure she knows what she sees in the gaze. It's the look her father has given her mother for so many years. "Kates?"

"No, Mats. Don't say it. It's too soon." 

"OK." 

She eases herself away from him and he scoots over to the side of the bed, his feet flat on the floor. "I'll be back in a flash," she says as she walks to the bathroom. Mateo cradles his head in his hands. 

He hears the door open, and Katie crawls up behind him. She wraps her arms around his chest, resting her head on his back. "Hey, we'll talk about it Tuesday when we go hiking." 

"OK. But it's not just that."

"What else?"

"That was, like, really great sex."

"Ah. You're gonna make me blush."

"But we can't do that again."

"It's not a big deal. I told you I'm on the pill. It's more effective than condoms anyway."

"It doesn't matter. If you get pregnant and I'm responsible, I'm going to feel terrible that I put you in a position where you have to make a life or death decision."

"It's kind of my job to make life or death decisions." 

"You know what I mean." 

"Mat, I'm 25. And I've been doing this long enough to know how not to get pregnant. It's not rocket science."

"It can happen," Mateo argues, rubbing his hands through his hair. 

"Yeah, it can. But it's not going to." Katie pauses before continuing. "Mat, please dial it back just a little bit. You're so intense about everything."

"I'm trying to be responsible." 

"If you had a guy walking up to the plate batting 900, would you call a pitchout or would you have the pitcher throw a fast ball down the middle? You'd call for a pitchout and go with the odds, right?"

"Of course. But if someone walked up batting 900, I'd take my glove off, shake his hand, and ask for his autograph." 

"Back on topic, dude. I'm not going to make any more baseball analogies with you. You get distracted. I'm just trying to say that we're going with the odds. And it's going to be fine." Katie kisses his shoulder. "You're mad, though, aren't you?"

"No, not really. I'm kind of ashamed of myself, though. And I'm tired," Mateo sighs. 

"I'm tired too," she admits and kisses his neck. 

"And hungry." 

"And bummed we have to leave each other already." 

"Yeah, definitely. I wish we could spend the whole day together."

"That'd be nice. Really nice." 

Mateo covers the arms that are wrapped around him with his and turns his head enough to be able to find her face. He kisses her gently and whispers, "I do, though, Kates."

"I know. Me too, Mats. Me too," she whispers back and grips him tighter. 

**********

"Veronica, we're not getting out of bed to go running in the rain."

"OK, you convinced me."

"Is that really all it takes these days to persuade you to my ideas?" Logan asks as he inches closer to her side of the bed. 

"Breakfast in a diner watching the rain run down the front window. Doesn't that sound perfect?"

"Add a newspaper on the table, and I think you've get the setting of an old movie." 

"No matter what, you'll never get rid of the Hollywood bred into you."

"I was born to be a star, but I told that star to fuck off so I could fly planes."

"The sacrifices you've made. And what about the rest of the world deprived of seeing your gorgeous mug on the big screen?"

Logan laughs. "Can you even fucking imagine? That's like my worst fucking nightmare." 

"What do you say? Breakfast out and then back here so you can surf? Then leftover lasagna for a late lunch before we go our separate ways." 

"I don't know about surfing. That water is so cold."

"You're getting soft, Echolls." 

"Speaking of not getting soft, I suggest we take your car into town so that when we get back, we can crawl in the backseat and fuck like teenagers." 

"Ever the romantic." 

"Thought you didn't want grand gestures and romantic declarations," Logan says and lifts both hands behind his head on the pillow. 

"You're so right. I'd rather have good sex." 

"Good? You can be more generous with your praise, Mars. I don't think all that begging you did equals good. Or do I need to up my game after breakfast?"

"Yeah, OK. Stop showing off again. It was plenty good."

"Hey," Logan starts before pausing briefly. "How about if I visit you in Palo Alto next weekend?"

"I was thinking about going to Visalia to some games." 

"When were you going to tell me you'd be back in my area?" Logan asks offended.

"Relax. I would have told you, but I haven't actually talked to Mateo about it yet. I need to see what he thinks." 

"Does he ever tell you not to show up at his games?"

"Not usually, but things might be different now."

"Why?"

Veronica turns her head to see if she can read his expression, but she thinks he seems clueless. "Um, Katie." 

"What about her?"

"You remember. You set them up last weekend."

"Yeah, so."

"So, they're all obsessed with each other."

"Really?"

"Yeah, Mateo's got it bad. And I'm guessing she does too. She didn't say anything to you about visiting him this weekend in Lancaster?"

"No, but I didn't really ask her about her weekend plans. I had other things on my mind. Namely, you." 

"Remember what it was like to meet someone and fall so desperately for them so quickly?"

"Yeah, it happened to me last weekend. Again. With you." 

"Careful. That was almost a declaration."

"I declare, Veronica Mars, that it was one of the best days of my life when I bumped into you at a baseball game and you let me back into your life."

"Could you hear me rolling my eyes? That's the only response I have to that. A giant eye roll." 

"Come on, Veronica. Make your declaration to me. Get it over with and you won't have to be uncomfortable about my displays of affection for you."

"I declare, Logan Echolls, that I kind of like you. Sometimes. Once in awhile. Maybe. Kind of."

"That may be the sweetest thing you've ever said to me," Logan says chuckling. 

"It actually probably is, and that's fucking ridiculous. What is wrong with me?" 

"Let me count the ways." 

"I'd like that list alphabetized as well as listed according to relevancy." Veronica reaches over and holds Logan's hand. "Logan, I declare that I'm so glad you're not just a picture in my wallet anymore and that you're not just part of my memories and that being with you again let's me believe in possibilities." 

"That's more like it, bobcat," Logan acknowledges softly and squeezes her hand. They lie next to each other quiet, enjoying, and content. 

"I can't believe this is all over so soon," Veronica confesses.

"The weekend may be coming to an end, but we aren't over, Veronica. This is just the first inning of the second game in our double header. We'll cheer when things go right and get tense when we make mistakes. But, ultimately, we'll work hard and be excited just to be able to stay in the game and play next to each other. And, who knows? Maybe we'll end up in the hall of fame together."

Veronica smiles and rolls next to Logan before putting her hand on his muscled chest. "That's beginning to seem like a grand gesture. Baseball references and all." 

"I'll make any kind of gesture you allow me to make, Veronica. Grand seems miniscule compared to what I think we deserve."

 

**********

_We won tonight._

_I know, kid. I listened to it online. It sounded like you had a pretty good night._

_Didn't hit well, but some nights are like that._

_That's more philosophical than you usually are about striking out 2 times. How are you?_

_Exhausted. Hungry._

_It's nice you have three days off for the all-star break. You can get some much needed rest._

_That agent left me a couple of messages this weekend and texted me 4 times. That's obnoxious. My friends don't call me that much in one weekend. I thought you told me he was only going to call you._

_He left me some messages too. And he was supposed to only contact me. He's in San Francisco for several days and wants to meet. We're still against this, right?_

_For sure. Now that you're almost a lawyer, you can be my manager/agent if I really need one. You don't really want to work for PG &E or Cooley, do you? _

_Not even a little bit. Sometimes I swear you can read my mind._

_You going to see him? You need to tell him to stop contacting me or I'm going to change my number._

_I think I'd rather just text him if that's OK with you. No need to spend that much time commuting into the city._

_That's cool. I don't care. Just make sure he stops calling me._

_How was your time with Katie?_

_Good, but I want to talk to you about it voice to voice._

_You want me to call you now?_

_No, I'm in the locker room and then the team's grabbing something to eat before heading back to Visalia on the bus. I want to talk to you, but I don't want the guys listening in and I don't see any time alone before getting back. You available tomorrow?_

_All day. Call me anytime._

_I just kind of want to get your feedback on a couple of things._

_Happy to._

_How was your weekend?_

_Fine. Speaking of weekends, I was thinking about visiting you next weekend, but I want to check that it's good with you. I don't want to interrupt anything._

_What would you be interrupting?_

_Maybe that's the wrong word, but I don't want to get in the way of plans you have with Katie._

_Ma, you're never in my way._

_Ah, there's my dear sweet, sweet Mateo. I miss him. He doesn't make too many appearances these days._

_I should be nicer to you. You shouldn't be the one who gets the brunt of all my frustrations day after day. Sometimes I suck, don't I?_

_No, you don't. You sound down, though. Do I need to worry about you?_

_No, I'm just tired and kind of confused about some things._

_About Katie?_

_I really like her._

_That's a good thing. When are you going to see her again?_

_Tuesday. She switched some things so we can go hiking at Sequoia since I have the day off._

_Sounds like fun._

_But then one of her brothers is supposed to visit her next weekend. She thinks it's too soon for me to meet anyone in her family. What do you think?_

_I think you have to respect her feelings. Don't rush things. She has to take things at her own pace._

_What if I more than like her?_

_I don't want to negate your feelings, but I worry about you jumping too deep so fast. Give both of you time to breath. You haven't even had your first fight with her. Navigating that is going to tell you a lot about how you can each handle the relationship._

_I don't want her to think I'm just in this for a quick fuck._

_There are more than 2 options. It's not just quick fuck or eternal love. You don't always have to see things in extremes. But face it. You're a serial monogamist._

_I don't know why that's bad._

_It's not if that's who you really are. But if you're that way as a counter-reaction to your dad's behavior, then it might be a problem. Maybe after the season, you need to go back to therapy. Maybe you haven't dealt with all your issues with him._

_So being in love with Katie makes me some kind of a psycho?_

_Not at all, but, Mateo, you don't have to prove that you're not your dad. I know you don't like how he went from one woman to the next, but I've never believed he was using them. And you aren't using Katie. Don't worry about that._

_You've always told me I need to be responsible and I have to respect women. I'm trying to do that. Not sure dad always did._

_He loved women. He loved people. He loved life. And when you think about it, that's better than the opposite. It's OK to love Katie but give yourself, actually both of you, some time to get to know who you both are separately and together._

_I'll think about what you've said. I'll call tomorrow so we can really talk. Thanks for your advice tonight._

_I'm always here for you._

_I know. That's what gets me through every day. I love you._

_I love you, too, kid. And I'll tell you what I heard someone say recently. It's OK to love each other because there's no such thing as too much love._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for all the wonderful feedback I received for "Sliding into Home." Your hits, kudos, and comments have encouraged me to continue to work on my writing through this outlet. I appreciate the time you give to my works. I am truly grateful.


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